[rec.arts.erotica] Adult fiction: Karen Eliot's Excellent Adventures, #1

erotica@telly.on.ca (Evan Leibovitch) (03/16/90)

              Karen Eliot's Excellent Adventures #1

                      By Jim and Meg Norris



     The shiny red Integra glided through the late morning weekday 
traffic on the Balboa Peninsula. The cool sea air blowing through 
the sunroof and windows left Karen Eliot's flaming red hair 
trailing in the sportster's slipstream. A rock'n'roll CD blasted 
from her stereo. Tapping the tunes with her fingers on the 
steering wheel she smoothly approached her beach house. The music 
and engine died at the same instant. Karen reveled in the salty 
sea air and the calls of the gulls as she strolled across the 
carport. She never regretted her decision to live at the beach.
     Karen pulled her black halter top over her head and dropped 
it next to the mail on the counter. The light nipples on her pert 
breasts began to harden. She reviewed the letters that she'd just 
collected from her mail drop as she stepped out of her shorts and 
panties. She sniffed the g-string before dropping it the nearby 
pile of clothes. She was wet. Settling on the bar stool she 
reached for the stash. Karen rolled herself a slender doobie as 
she listened to the messages on her phone machine. Lighting the 
fragrant Thai weed, she opened the long awaited answer to a zine 
ad. She examined the brochure which broadly sketched what she 
expected. Yes, NQA did indeed mean No Questions Asked. "High 
sexual adventure" was just as suggested in the advertisement. She, 
as a player, wouldn't have any clues in advance to identify her 
partner. The expert-system tailored encounter was absolutely 
guaranteed to satisfy her desires. She had in fact wagered a large 
chunk of cash based on two personal references. The arbitration 
arrangements were excellent. Details would arrive by mail soon.
Karen absently licked two finger tips and rolled them lightly over 
her moist clit. She lightly pinched her nipple with her long 
finger nails. At this point Emma, her feline confidante and a 
sister believer in the rightness of pussy worship entered and took 
front row center seat for the unfolding show. Karen kept her 
movements slow and her touch light. Sometimes a finger or two 
would stray and disappear for a time beyond her downy trimmed 
patch only to come back with more nectar to lovingly caress her 
swollen clit. An electric feeling ran through her body, connecting 
her erogenous flesh. Her hips bucked and rolled as she got herself 
off. Slowly her low moaning and gyrations ceased. Opening her eyes 
Karen found Emma still in rapt astonishment. With a soft laugh, 
Karen said, "Think what you will, Emma, but it sure beats a 
sandpaper tongue on the ass, which you seem to favor."
     As she adjusted the water in the shower she knew she'd be 
watching the mail.
     

     Five days later Karen was adjusting the shower again, but 
this time it was in preparation for her first Adventure meet. 
Stepping into the shower and letting the hot water stream down her 
contours Karen reviewed the instructions. It didn't take very 
long. All the note had mentioned was Cool Dave's Steak House along 
with the address, date and time. Karen soaped her breasts and 
envisioned Cool Dave as perhaps an irresponsible surfer type whose 
wealthy parents had set him up in the food business when law, 
banking and corporate sharking proved beyond him. As she  finished 
soaping her long legs, she turned her attention to her pussy, 
giving it a gentle scrubbing in anticipation of wild frolic; a 
flight of mind and body to dizzying heights and depths, not the 
brief and mediocre in-and-out that too many of her partners had 
let pass for a "great lay". Realizing that she had started to 
stroke herself, Karen ran the other hand down the cleft of her ass 
cheeks and continued until she was definitely aroused. Abruptly 
she switched the water to cold to finish her shower. It always 
made her skin feel alive and her mind wide awake no matter what 
her previous condition had been.
     She had chosen a light peach knit dress that hugged her body. 
The fabric conformed to shape of her upturned tits, flat tummy, 
and graceful hips. Toweling herself dry Karen then powdered 
herself before the mirror, assessing her body. She had a light 
dusting of freckles. Her slender feet with high arches ended in 
perfectly painted toes. Her legs were firm and taut, sculpted by 
years of participation in a variety of sports. Gentle swell of 
hips and ass. Smooth tummy. And those tits; even she thought that 
she had a nice set. They required no upward coaching and were 
crowned by sweetly protruding nipples that were more accurate than 
a mood ring. The bright green eyes were the most outstanding 
feature of her face. Naturally thick lashes and flawless skin had 
saved much hassle with cosmetics over the years. The angular lines 
of her face along with her bearing often reflected a serene 
confidence. Satisfied, she slipped the dress over her head.
     Pulling up to a standard wood and glass restaurant of the 
California style Karen noted a near empty parking lot, it was only 
six thirty and Karen was happy to get eating out of the way to 
make more time for the project at hand. Guided to her booth Karen 
was a bit taken back to see no one there. Ordering white wine she 
sat back to wait and scan the faces.
     Caleb, her waiter, suspected the redhead at the reserved 
table right away. You just got a feel for them after awhile. He 
read about this sort of stuff in magazines. Too bad sugar daddy is 
late. Five minutes and I start bugging her to order.
     Karen glanced at the menu and hoped to any deity listening 
that the waiter glowering in her direction was not Mister 
Superfuck.It was then she felt the first feather like touch begin 
to go up the inside of her thigh. She shifted slightly to 
accommodate her unseen admirer who exhaled warmly on her downy 
thatch. The fingers still playing almost randomly over her legs 
were so light and gentle that except for their size she might have 
thought there was a woman hidden under the table cloth. Also the 
mouth that was becoming bolder had a mustache.
     Show time, Miss Scarlett, sneered Caleb's manly inner voice. 
Arranging his face to appear suitably disdainful he strode to her 
table. She had enough on the ball to go ahead and order a crab 
salad he noted, but he knew the pressure was getting to her. Her
voice was a tad breathy and there was a fine sheen of perspiration
on her upper lip.
     Between a tongue that tantalized her clit and fingers that 
had now picked higher ground to give their delightful attention, 
Karen had a better idea why she was in the corner booth. She let 
herself enjoy and savor the relative privacy. With the waiter gone 
she was able to lift her hips enough to have her ass tenderly 
cupped and kneaded. She eased one silky thigh on his shoulder and 
could feel the roughness of his cheek on her. Remaining silent and 
still required determination. Her lover eased away from her pussy 
as the intensity of her orgasmic peaks approached overload. 
Karen's orgasm faded. She relaxed as expert hands softly toweled 
her crotch.  With a final kiss against her swollen mound, her 
lover eased into the seat next to her. "I'm Brian", he said. 
"Please follow me." He dropped a Franklin on the table as they 
walked to the manager's office.
     Caleb had arrived with her crab salad. What a waste. The babe 
was gone. He picked up the $100 bill and resolved to keep the 
entirety. He returned the salad and destroyed the check.
     Brian assured Karen that Cool Dave was essentially out for 
the duration. Or at least until the Brady Bunch special was over. 
Dave's office was appointed with furniture which apparently hadn't 
seen much use. Brian's intentions were clear as he stripped. Karen 
felt herself responding to the enormous organ which he revealed by 
shucking his jeans. Brian grinned at Karen as his penis grew with 
every beat of his heart. Karen barely believed that the beautiful, 
well muscled surfer with the gigantic dong was hers. With a grin 
of her own, she pulled the dress over her head and shook her wild 
curls. As they met in a warm embrace their tongues intertwined in 
a deep kiss. They slowly explored each others hot mouths. With a 
touch Karen led Brian to the sofa and had him lie down. She 
planted her knees on the cushions next to his head. As she 
prepared to concentrate on his manhood, she slid back on the sofa 
and again presented her twat and ass to the accomplished muff 
diver. Karen grasped Brian's thick slab of man meat with one hand 
and cupped his hairy balls with the other. She licked the length 
of his shaft until it was glistening with her saliva. She released 
his balls and began stroking his pole. Brian gently licked and 
nipped at Karen's pussy lips as her tongue ringed the purple head 
of his throbbing dick. Karen reluctantly released Brian's rock 
hard tool. She agiley positioned herself above him. Brian massaged 
Karen's tits as she grasped his member. With one hand she spread 
her labia and with the other she stroked the entrance of her 
vagina with his dick head. Brian felt Karen's tight, hot cunt 
engulfing his veiny girth. Karen established her pace to the time 
of Brian's bucking hips. She'd never felt more stuffed than when 
their crotches slammed together. Karen couldn't help her moans of 
pleasure as they fucked faster and faster. Karen rocketed to 
orgasm and slowly subsided on Brian's chest, where they gently 
hugged. After a moment Karen arose and motioned Brian up. She took 
his place on the sofa and said, "You drive". Karen raised her legs 
to Brian's shoulders and Brian guided his cock into her invitingly 
raised pussy. He grasped her ankles and thrust in and out with 
briskly controlled strokes. Hard in, easy out, long, and short, 
controlled by Karen's breathing and movements. Her pleasure 
building beyond control, Karen came again and again.  Brian assumed 
a position on all fours above Karen. They kissed deeply and with 
great affection. He then extracted his rigid member and stood, 
admiring, over Karen. She also rose and they warmly embraced. 
"One more time, stud", Karen said. While holding his shoulders, 
she jumped up and wrapped her supple legs around his waist. Brian 
reached under Karen's legs and clutched her buttocks. As he lifted 
her up his dick trailed the juices of their love down Karen's tummy. 
He lowered her drenched snatch onto his shaft. Brian raised and 
lowered Karen with his powerful arms. Karen's head was rolled back 
as she moaned with delight. Brian's explosion was building. 
They intensified their screwing until they came together.She could 
feel his semen pulsing deep into her cunt. Her vaginal sphincter 
spasmed on the root of his cock. They exploded in ecstasy together. 
After a brief hug, they disentangled. Brian's semen ran from 
Karen's snatch and down her thigh as she licked his love muscle clean. 
He returned the favor by slurping the fluids from her pussy and thigh. 
Brian produced a fluffy towel which they both used to contain the 
wayward ejecta.
     Brian pulled out his stash as Karen relaxed. He cut two fine 
lines of Peruvian blue flake and separated them on the small 
mirror. He handed the mirror and a narrow tube to Karen. With a 
delicate sniff she inhaled a line of the fine cocaine. She leaned 
back in the growing euphoria. Brian snorted the other line and 
secured the stash. They sat on the floor enjoying each other's 
presence, warmly embraced in the glow of fucking and the coke. As 
one, they arose, dressed, and slipped unnoticed from Cool Dave's 
office and restaurant.
     Brian had already gotten a room at a nearby hotel and the 
quality and variety of his sexual prowess had truly been 
memorable. Karen had made another appointment for as soon as 
possible on the strength of it. Now she pulled her car into the 
convenience store parking lot because she was still early for her 
meet at the hot tubs next door. Oh well, Emma was running low on 
chow so she would pick up a few cans to avoid the accusing looks 
that Emma meted out when disturbed by dietary restrictions.

     Ken glanced about with the practiced economy of a predator. 
If something didn't happen soon, he was going to have to move on. 
Avoiding ambush and capture had honed his sense for such things. 
The lone clerk in the 7-11 had noticed him an hour or so ago. He 
really didn't need the pigs on him over some vagrancy bullshit. As 
he turned the corner out of sight he again nervously checked his 
weapon. The Glock 9mm that he'd taken off a pig after wasting him 
still had a nearly full magazine. Well, less that one round for 
the cunt he'd greased in Texas last week. It was lucky for him 
that the pig ran combat loads; one shot, one kill. Or two. He'd 
seen a newspaper that said the bitch was pregnant.
     The electric company crew was pulling out. Shit, the place 
was flat empty. The approaching red sports car got his attention. 
A very attractive redhead got out of the Integra. It was spooky 
the way she'd laid that penetrating glance on him. Her bright 
green eyes seemed to see everything and more. This was it. He was 
taking this one.
     Karen noticed a man who seemed to be waiting for someone by 
the convenience store. Was this the guy? He was kinda cute, if a 
little on the hunkish side. She didn't feel any thrill of 
recognition like last time, but she could feel the tingly warmth 
and wetness between her legs. 
     Anyway, the guy didn't establish contact. She walked past him 
and into the store.
     She was grabbed upon leaving the store. So it is him, huh? 
     He'd immobilized her with a vicelike grip at one elbow and a 
crushing arm around her waist. She could hardly breathe. All he 
said was, "Come with me!". He quickstepped her around the side of 
the store and to the back. Ken opened the passenger door of his 
Mark IV and Karen stepped in with growing anticipation.
     Ken carefully drove the short distance to the secret corner 
of the park which he'd earlier selected. The behemothic automobile 
glided to a stately halt in the empty parking lot. "You first", 
Ken said motioning, "In the back".
     Ken immediately began hardening at the sight of Karen's bare 
boobs jiggling beneath her cotton shirt. Nips up, too. Karen 
presented her lithe hips and slimly contoured ass to Ken as she 
wiggled past him on her way to the back seat. The delicate aroma 
of pussy aroused him further. This babe's knockers were 
magnificent. Ken followed Karen to the aft of his land yacht. He 
immediately set to groping her. Karen removed her shirt and Ken 
began eagerly mashing her melons and roughly pinching her nips. 
Suddenly deciding what he wanted, Ken turned Karen facing away 
from him and tugged her slacks and panties over her hips and ass.
As soon as Karen realized that his hardon wasn't rigid enough to 
penetrate her, she turned and gracefully began licking and 
manipulating his wand. Karen wondered if he might be anxious. In a 
few short strokes of her slender fingers, he was ready. Karen 
turned back around to present her fuck target. As Ken closed, she 
reached between her legs and guided his cock into her cunt. He 
immediately began an incessant rabbit-like pumping. This bitch 
really had a great attitude. Karen was starting to get into the 
rhythm of Ken's hammering. Her orgasmic waves were building to 
explosion peaks, but with great moaning Ken pulled out of her just 
before coming. In the style of the porn vids with which Ken was 
exceedingly familiar, he spurted his load of jism on her ass and 
back. Ken had absolutely no doubt that he'd just had by far the 
most pleasurable experience of his warped existence. Karen 
suggested taking the blanket outside where there was more room to 
romp. Entranced, he followed. As they spread the blanket on the 
grass, Karen extracted a hooter from her stash. Lighting it, she 
offered it to her partner, "Would you like a toke, mac?", she 
asked. "What's a tokamak?", Ken dimwittedly responded. "It's a 
small doughnut-shaped nuclear reactor in which a plasma is heated 
and confined by electric and magnetic fields", Karen said, "But 
that's not important now. Would you like a hit of my joint?" 
Absolutely unable to deny the ultrafox wonderbitch, he imbibed. 
They passed the smoke back and forth. After moments of silence, 
Karen spoke softly, "Look. Let's do it again. This time, follow my 
lead, okay? You got a name, Tiger?". "Ken", he said. "That's 
better. Lean back, please Ken", were the last words possible from 
Karen as she took his limp hose into her mouth. As Ken hardened in 
her mouth, Karen accommodated his growing cock in her throat. Her 
licking and sucking was sufficient to obtain a highly erect 
member. Karen threw a leg over Ken. Lying on him, she hugged 
herself to him. Karen's hot breasts pressed into Ken's chest. 
Karen could feel his engorged dong against her belly as she 
clamped his hips with her legs. After a momentary hug she lifted 
her chest and shook her tits in an exaggerated fashion, rolling 
her head of beautiful flaming locks. 
     Ken rose on his elbows and licked gently around Karen's erect 
nipples. He'd shift between light sucking on her nipples or 
kissing and massaging her breasts. Karen rolled her head as Ken 
pleasured her. She raised her hips and grabbed Ken's manly meat. 
She toyed with his dick head at the entrance of her cunt. Slowly 
Karen lowered herself on Ken's pole. Her controlled strokes paced 
their united climb to orgasm. Several times she kept him from 
coming by grasping his balls. When Ken's approach to his climax 
became undeniable, Karen rode his bucking meat all the harder. 
With cries that couldn't be held back, they came together. Ken's 
soft dick slid out of Karen's snatch as she rolled off him. Within 
minutes, Ken was fast asleep.

     Unable to rouse Ken, Karen yielded to her intuition and began 
a quick but detailed search of his personal effects. If this isn't 
Mister Superfuck then who is he? Keys and a gun. No papers of any 
kind. She was reasonably sure that he wasn't a narc, but fascist 
gangsters are dime a dozen. She rolled the handgun in the lunch 
bag and slid it under the seat.
     There weren't any tools or even a spare tire in the trunk. 
What was all this weird cult religious stuff? Tracts, banners, and 
books. She'd never heard of the Campus Crusade for Cthulhu. Since 
The Esoteric Order of Dragon, a debased, quasi-pagan thing 
imported from the East a century before, the peculiar mythos had 
made few inroads on Sol III.
Karen dumped Ken's clothes within the cavernous trunk.
     Ken was snoring in the grass when Karen got back to him. She 
covered him with the blanket, giving him a decidedly homeless 
look. A complete stranger to the Hawaiian smoke, and in a pathetic 
post-coital torpor, Ken was soon snoozin'n'loozin as Karen split 
with his car.
     Karen eased Ken's Lincoln back into its original parking 
space. Like before, the area was dead. She removed the semi-
automatic pistol from the brown bag under the seat. After checking 
the safety she ejected the clip and jacked out the chambered 
round. Karen took the gun and ammunition to the gutter. With a 
metallic clatter she dropped the lot to the street. Swiftly, she 
kicked everything into the storm drain. The car keys followed.
     Karen bought a can of WD-40 and a butane cigarette lighter 
from the bored clerk at the grocery. When she got to Ken's car she 
carefully sprayed every interior surface with the penetrating 
lubricant. After making sure that she had all her things she 
locked and closed the door. As she walked away from Ken's car, 
Karen tapped the lighter into an exhaust pipe so as to lodge it in 
the muffler. The WD-40 can joined the gun and keys in the storm 
drain. With a frisky swing of her hips, Karen headed for her car 
in the front parking lot of the mini mall.

     Upon returning home Karen was not very surprised to find a 
message on her machine asking why she had not made her meet. Ken 
had not been an earthshaking lover at all. She didn't much like 
having to ditch a gun and wipe a car because of him either, but at 
least everyone would walk away mostly unharmed. And she could 
still look forward to her next encounter. 

  DISCLAIMER: The secretary will disavow any knowledge of my actions in the
              event that I am caught or killed.

            Jim Norris      jim@locus.com      (213) 337-5945

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